To Love a Mortal
by SilverElvenEyes
Summary: Long ago great evil was done by one of Elrond's ancestors; a secret kept by the elves for thousands of years. But when Aldaya and Elrohir discover the secret, they learn that some things are best left buried in time. Finished at last! Please r/r
1. Chapter One: As you wish, my Lady

DISCLAIMER: Only Silruin and Aldaya are mine.

Prologue:

__

An ancient secret, known only to few

Once told, once shamed, one many rue

A child by blood not of Beren's

A story of loss finds you therein

But what was the story that saddened the elves?

Where the dwarves delve deep, many secrets there dwell

Once is too many, three is too few

Nine is the number between me and you

Five is the times I called to the stars

Twelve are the reasons I knew from afar

Ten are the centuries waited have I

Four words and a story, all I have to defy

For eternal horror, eternal shame

Once a story, now a game

There is a first time for everything, and a last time for all

For even the elves from grace can they fall.

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Chapter One

As you wish, my Lady

Aldaya rested with eyes closed, listening to the melodic sounds of elvish voices, smiling a small, secret smile. Her horse snorted, and she opened one eye, allowing her smile to widen a bit. Oh, the stories her father had told her of Rivendell! The wonders and music of the hidden vale of Imladris! One of the last sanctuaries for the elves, or so it was said. And finally, she was here! 

Merchant's daughter that she was, Rivendell was a fascinating place, even had she not been so interested in elves. There were all kinds of things the elves could and would willingly trade for. Elves were wonderful bargainers (though, being a merchant, she would be bound by duty to say they always robbed her blind) and that made it even more delightful for her. It was straight out of a dream for a merchant who was still coming up in the world. 

Her bay mare shook her mane, and sweat droplets flew on the air. The air was cooling as they descended into the vale, back to a more comfortable temperature, but Aldaya's hair was still pasted against her face. Her caravan had been hit by a horrible heat wave on their way north that seemed determined to stick with them. The heat had made the men cranky, and fights had begun to break out. Only another reason for her to have urged them on to Rivendell.

The steep bank leveled out, and Aldaya followed her escort, four guards in front and many more behind, into a wooden area that seemed strangely illuminated. It took her a minute to realize the illumination was thousands of fireflies floating in lightly tinted glass lanterns. She eyed them critically, but could find little wrong with the design. Yet another thing to bargain for.

It was another minute before she realized something else: no longer was the music coming from far in below her. Now it was coming from all around her, above her, to her right and her left. And suddenly, from right in front of her.

A young, handsome elf stepped into the path; his dark eyes alight in the glow from the lanterns. Ignoring the bristling guards, he stepped forward and gave her a little bow, making her grin.

"Mae govannen*, and well met, Lady Aldaya!" he said in the clear ringing speech of the Fair Folk. "Welcome to our humble home!"

Aldaya bowed from the saddle, trying not to look too pleased. "Mae govannen, edhel-imladris.*"

The elf grinned at her, and winked. "If you are searching for the House of Master Elrond, merely follow this path. If you don't mind, my friends and I would like to accompany you. We're all looking forward to the feast. I can smell the cooking fires already—mmm. Smells like turkey."

Aldaya chuckled. "If you do not mind, my dear elf, I would enjoy walking with you and your people." She dismounted smoothly and threw her reins to a scowling guard. 

The elf bowed again. "It would be an honor, my Lady. My name is Silruin.*"

He offered her his arm, and she took, it smiling. Her disapproving guard took up the rear as elves fell in around and behind them, laughing and singing, capering about like young children. Elves, unlike most stories in Middle-Earth portrayed them, could be as happy-go-lucky as a nine-year-old during holidays. 

They chatted easily, speaking of prices and bargains, possible trades and payments. Silruin was a young elf by their standards—merely millennia old, he explained. His eyes held an almost playful coyness as he spoke, but he had a kind smile. 

"Lord Elrond has been looking forward to your arrival," said Silruin. "There have been few merchant trains about lately, and even we cannot sustain ourselves completely. The climate is not right for wine-grapes." Aldaya hid a chuckle behind a cough, and nodded. 

"I did notice the land seemed unusually barren…have you any idea why?"

The elf suddenly seemed troubled. "An idea, but no proof." Then his smile brightened again as he changed the subject. "Ahh, there it is! The House of Elrond."

The trees parted suddenly like a curtain, and she stifled a gasp. Even Aldaya, who had seen many a castle and mansion in her time, was stunned by the sheer size of Rivendell. She'd always thought of it as a small castle, but it was more like a city, taking up the entire side of one hill. Silruin glanced sideways and hid a smile at her expression. Pale light filtered through the windows, giving the place a mysterious yet homey look. In all her dreams she could never have imagined a more perfect place for the Fair Folk to live. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Silruin said coyly.

"Yes. It'll do," Aldaya answered shortly, straightening her back and returning to her rather stoic merchant's face. 

She heard him chuckle as she remounted, and say softly, "As you wish, my Lady. As you wish."

*^*^*^*^*

When Aldaya dismounted once more in the courtyard of Rivendell, and stretched wearily, the elves fanned out in front of her and struck up soft conversation with one another. Aldaya stopped tweaking muscles back into their proper place when Lord Elrond began descending gracefully down the entrance stairs. The elves fell silent, and all smiled or gave a little bow to him, and he smiled back. It was an interesting setup, and a rare one—the elves did not fear their leaders, but they respected them, and vise versa. 

"Welcome to Rivendell, Lady Aldaya," Elrond said with a smile and a short bow.

"Mae govannen, Tar-Imladris*."

Elrond's smile widened. "Would you perhaps like to freshen up a bit before dinner?"

"If it is not too much trouble," she answered smoothly.

"Not at all." Lord Elrond motioned for an elf to come forward. It was Silruin. "Silruin, please lead the Lady Aldaya to her quarters."

"Of course, Master Elrond." The elf threw Aldaya another of his coy smiles and offered an arm. Hiding a grin, she placed a hand on his forearm and allowed him to lead her into Rivendell.

"Don't you fell better without all that scowling muscle at your back?" he asked playfully.

"Guards are necessary."

"Oh, but of course," Silruin replied, his tone amused. "Have you found anything you wish to trade for?"

Aldaya shot him a look. "Maybe, maybe not."

Silruin laughed. "Oh, you humans are so much fun to tease! Especially merchants. You are friendly as can be until you have to make a deal, and then down comes the poker face!"

Aldaya shook her head, but a smile touched her lips. "Elves," she said under her breath.

"Humans," Silruin retorted. She glanced at him, and both of them laughed. 

"All right," she said, "point taken. I won't put my—what did you call it? Poker face?—up until the bargaining begins. But after that," she said, shaking a finger at him, "expect no mercy."

Silruin pretended to be shot. "I'm hit!" he cried, and collapsed. "She speaks her mind! Surely I must be dead!"

Aldaya rolled her eyes. "Come on, elf, I smell like horse and other things I don't want to think about."

"As you wish, my Lady. As you wish."

*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*

*Mae govannen = well met, or welcome/greetings

*Edhel-imladris = elf of Imladris

*Silruin = shining red flame

*Tar-Imladris = Lord of Rivendell

PS. I am not very fluent in elvish, so if I get some of the elvish wrong (I will endeavor not to) please forgive me…you are now reaching for the mouse—CLICK!—you are now reviewing…lol, seriously, I love reviews. 


	2. Chapter Two: A Midnight Squirmish

DISCLAIMER: Only Silruin and Aldaya are mine

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Chapter Two

A Midnight Squirmish

Aldaya stepped out into the dinning hall of Rivendell, and paused long enough to admire the craftsmen-ship that had gone into building and decorating it. There were tapestries, dramatic chandeliers hung from what looked to be living vines. Up on a small dais sat Lord Elrond, with a golden-haired elf at his right hand side. Silruin came up next to her, and nodded to the empty chair on Elrond's left. "You are to sit with the Lord Elrond tonight," he told her.

"I expected little else," Aldaya replied coolly.

Silruin's eyebrows disappeared in his hair. "A bit big for our britches, now are we?" He disappeared before she could reply.

"Elves," she grumbled, making her way toward the dais.

Elrond stood to greet her, and bowed over the hand she offered him. "It is a great honor that you join us tonight," he said calmly. "I hope we will have many such meetings in the future."

Aldaya curtsied now, as she had changed into a dress. "As do I."

"I would like you to meet Glorfindel, my friend and adviser." The golden-haired elf stepped forward and bowed. 

"It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Nay, the pleasure's all mine."

As she sat down to eat, she noticed something strange. None of the elves had even paused in their conversation when she entered the room—not even a hint of nervousness when Elrond had stood. This, once again, reinforced her idea that elves lived much different from humans. In Gondor, if one looked a lord in the eyes and was not proper rank, you could be whipped, or worse. If you did not fall silent when he spoke, you could have your tongue cut out. And if you were not careful to bow just as the Lord or Lady passed, you could be beaten. It was a harsh world, and one Aldaya was glad to escape from for a while. 

Elrond and Glorfindel were good conversationalists, keeping up a steady stream of chatter that wasn't strained or boring. She and Elrond were deep in conversation about the value of those lanterns she had seen, when suddenly one of the side doors slammed open.

"Orcs by the river!" one of the newcomers cried. 

Conversation in the room ground to a halt as all turned to see the two bedraggled elves that strode quickly forward, not quite running. Elrond stood and stepped to one side with the elves. Both were wearing hoods to hide their faces, and it was only when they pulled them back that Aldaya had to stifle a gasp.

The two elves obviously had to be twins—they were completely identical, even in height and length of hair. But they were so obviously modeled after Elrond that they had to be his sons, or his nephews. They were talking rapidly, and very quickly Elrond was sending out orders. Glorfindel left the table to help him. Most of the guests, the majority of which were elves, stood or sat a bit uneasily, not certain if they should continue with their meal. 

Aldaya slipped out and went back to her room, changing her clothes, quietly stringing her bow and checking her throwing knives. She was not some pampered princess out of a fairytale, but neither was she some unbelievable heroine with a sword. She was a little bit of both. 

She found her soldiers also strapping on their weapons. The quickest way to a trader's heart, Aldaya's father had always said, was to help him protect his assets. 

"We're coming, too," Aldaya informed a startled Glorfindel. The elf took one look at her face and knew better than to argue. Another wonderful trait of the elves.

"Very well." He pointed. "You're with the archers. As for you," he added as he turned towards the soldiers. "Over there." Aldaya quickly marched over to join the ranks of the elven archers, and checked her quiver and bow multiple times to keep from getting nervous before she was satisfied.

"Where's your knife?" an elf asked Aldaya suddenly. She looked up, surprised.

"I have my throwing knives. Besides, a sword is too heavy for me."

"That won't be enough if the orcs break through the line. Here, Silruin!"

Is that elf everywhere? she wondered, a bit irritated. 

"I need a sword for this young woman here."

"Try this one!" Silruin replied with a wink, and threw a sword about three feet long over the heads of two elves. The elf caught it easily, and handed it to her, and she almost dropped it she was so startled. It was light as a feather!

Aldaya belted it on with a word of thanks, and checked her equipment one last time. Then the order was given and the company marched out of Rivendell. 

*^*^*^*

Swiftly they made their way out of the vale, back towards the Ford. It was a grueling trip, considering how far Aldaya and her men had ridden that day, but they had little choice. If Aldaya wanted to make a good impression, this would be the best way. 

However, she had not expected how viciously the orcs fought.

She could only shoot one arrow for every three that the elves shoot, but even in the dark her arrows rarely missed. The moon came up, and the blood shone silver in the pale glow. Despite the beautiful night it was chaos on the battlefield. 

She ducked under a stray arrow from an orc and shot off another. The ranks of the archers were thinning as they were needed else where, but some of them, including her, stuck their ground, firing cover for the fighters and taking out enemy archers. Screams were shrill on the clear, windless night, and the air stank of death. 

Finally, though, a group of orcs burst through the ranks and came at the last archers. Aldaya folded her bow up with a snap and flung it aside. One throwing knife took the closest orc through the throat, and she leapt forward with a snarl, her short sword in hand.

Without armor, she was much more maneuverable than the orcs, and though soon she was bleeding from a dozen minor hits, she had two orcs down and a third fighting for its life. She glanced over its shoulder, saw an elf being driven against the ground, nearly impaled, and flung her last throwing knife at the orc. The creature screamed and fell, clawing at its throat as the elf staggered to his feet. Unfortunately, the orc in front of her had seen her mind wander for an instant, drove his sword through her defenses, and deep into her side. Not yet feeling the pain, she looked down at the blade sticking out of her skin, and felt sick. Suddenly blood splat against her face as the orc was beheaded from behind. The last thing she saw as she blacked out was Silruin reaching for her, a bloody sword in his right hand.


	3. Chapter Three: Questions and Conversatio...

DISCLAIMER: Does anybody even read these? I didn't think so. Oh, well, for copy-right's sake I'll admit it; I only own Silruin and Aldaya. J 

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Chapter Three

Questions and Conversations

Aldaya slowly opened her eyes, happy for the moment just to be alive and without pain. The sun danced across the ceiling, and the sent of flowers tickled her nose. It had to be late morning, but the window was pulled half-closed so that the light was kept out of her eyes. Aldaya flexed her fingers, then her arms and toes, and finally shifted her weight a bit. There was no stab of pain, as she had expected. Aldaya had been in several squeamishes with orcs, but nothing like this. Everything was very vivid in her memory, but also very distant, as if seen from afar. 

"I wonder if I am dead," she muttered to herself.

"I certainly hope not," came a quiet voice from somewhere over to her left. "Or else I'll never get to thank you for saving my life."

Aldaya propped herself up on her elbows and looked over to see a dark figure sitting in a chair in the corner. It was the elf she had saved with her knife-throw.

"What is your name, sir?" she asked.

"My name is Elrohir."

"You look familiar."

Elrohir smiled. "I'm Lord Elrond's youngest son."

Oh my god, she thought. Talk about impressions! I've just saved the elf-lord's son!

"Do you feel better?" he asked.

"I can move without pain," she replied. "Yes, I fell better."

"That's good." The elf shifted. "You were almost dead when we brought you here."

"Dead?" Aldaya repeated, a bit absently.

"You were bleeding to death. My father managed to save you." Elrohir hesitated.

"Thank you, then."

"You're welcome."

At that moment, Elrond entered the room, wearing the flowing robes she had come to expect. It had surprised her at first—most lords in her village wanted to look "lordly" and would have nothing to do with the classic robes.

He smiled. "I see that you have met my son Elrohir."

"Yes, my Lord."

"I am surprised that you wished to fight."

"You mean because most merchants wouldn't know one end of a sword from the other?" she answered wryly.

"That," Elrond agreed slowly, "and because most people will not put themselves in a dangerous position for an elf."

Aldaya looked at him sharply, absently noting that Elrohir had slipped out. "My Lord, for once in my life I will drop my mask for a non-merchant and tell you the straight and unvarnished truth; I do not enjoy being human. I do not enjoy being as flawed as we are, or as stupid and shortsighted as we are. Some people say that elves aren't worth saving, that they're sorcerers and creatures of the dark. I disagree, and abhor such thoughts, and if I am put in the position to either risk my neck or watch an elf die, I will risk my neck. An elf can do a lot more things for Middle-Earth lots better than I can. If you look at it that way, I am quite insignificant."

"We are not infallible," Elrond pointed out. "We have made horrible mistakes in the past. We have done evil things."

"But you have not done them without learning from them," she replied. "Besides, I hold more respect for your people than mine. After all, I have been in a perfect position to watch for human cruelty."

Elrond watched her strangely for a moment, a light flickering dimly in his eyes. "You are an unusual human, Lady Aldaya," he said quietly. 

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she called after him as he left the room. Elrond paused, and looked back. 

"I'll let you decide that."


	4. Chapter Four: Unyielding Secrets

DISCLAIMER: see chapters one through three…aka, only Silruin and Aldaya are mine. ALL HAIL TOLKIEN! Sorry. Had to say that. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story may become a little darker, and it will certainly be more depressing than any of my other stories. I won't be raising the rating, but it will be a darker story than my other ones. If it feels like I'm repeating a certain line of a certain poem *coughcough* a bit too much, it's because its REALLY important later on in the story. Actually, the plot completely revolves around it. So it's probably annoying but it's pivotal. So don't forget it. :) 

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Chapter Four

Unyielding Secrets

Elrond sat at his desk, staring at the papers in front of him, and yet not truly seeing them. The poem still rang in his mind.

__

There is a first time for everything and a last time for all

For even the elves from grace can they fall.

For even the elves from grace can they fall.

"It can't be," Elrond murmured. "It can't be."

__

Luthien's line will never fail…

"It can't be what, father?"

Elrond turned and smiled wanly at his son Elrohir. "Oh, it's nothing, my son."

Like a bad song coming back to haunt him, the words repeated in Lord Elrond's mind. _Luthien's line will never fail…Luthien's line will never fail…even the elves from grace can they fall…fall…can fall…a first time for everything…_

Elrond's eyes glazed over, and he locked down his mind, shielding so tightly Elrohir couldn't catch any of his thoughts. Always the intuitive one, Elrohir frowned slightly. "Father…"

Elrond shook his head slowly, and hesitated. "Elrohir, please, listen to me. I can't tell you what it is. I have some very good reasons for that. I will explain someday, I promise. But for now, please, just keep your distance from Aldaya."

"Aldaya?" Elrohir said, surprised. "But why?"

"Trust me, Elrohir. Try not to become too…close with her."

Elrohir's face darkened. "I will not have you dictating to me who and who not shall be my friends!"

"Elrohir." Elrond stood up and stepped forward until he was eye-to-eye with his son. "Elrohir, listen to me. Long ago there was secret that the elves have hidden in the depths of time. We have greatly wished to forget it. Please do not drag up ancient pain we have put behind us."

"But why can't you tell me?"

Elrond turned away and walked to the edge of the balcony. "My son, some things are better left unsaid."

"This is from the father who always told me there was no secrets between family?" Elrohir asked bitterly. By the time Elrond turned he was gone.

*^*^*^*^*

Elrond walked back to his study, running his fingers gently over familiar pieces of furniture, feeling the apolstry on the chair, the grain of the wood on his hand, the dust under his nails. He circled the room several times, and always ended up at his desk, with the poem lying there.

Even the elves from grace can they fall. 

A shudder ran down his arms when he thought of Gil-Galad's words to him so long ago. _"We have passed this on down through the generations, father to son, kinsman to kinsman. Now you must know the secret, Elrond, the secret we have hidden for so many years…it is locked in this poem. I am not permitted to tell you what it is. You must take this only copy and keep it, and decipher it for yourself."_

Even the elves from grace can they fall. 

"No one must know of this, Elrond! Tell only your oldest child, and none other. Lock it deep in your thoughts and keep it there! Keep it far away from where anyone could find it! You must even keep it from Celebrian."

"But, my lord, I cannot! And what of the Lady Galadriel? Does she know of this secret?"

"No one knows, my friend, but you and me. All others who knew it are dead."

So he had researched and looked for many long years, down unto the ages, until he discovered the truth.

Even the elves from grace can they fall. 

Elrond buried his head in his hands and wept.


	5. Chapter Five: What Secrets Have You Hidd...

Chapter Five

What Secrets Have You Hidden?

There was only one thing that Aldaya hated more than translating ancient Numenorian.

And that was, translating ancient elvish. 

It was a beautiful day—not too warm, not too cool, sunny and cheerful with blue skies and bright greens. Most people were outside, enjoying the sun and warmth.  

But no, Aldaya thought, a touch bitterly. I'm stuck in here, and though I'm in this undeniably wonderful library, I have to translate something _today for my mother because she __insists I don't know what I'm talking about, and that an elf has to check my work. _

Aldaya, frustrated, scribbled out a few words of writing, breaking off the tip of her quill and scratching through the thin paper. Swearing loudly through gritted teeth, she pulled out a knife and resharpened the tip of her quill. 

Elrohir paused outside of the library, hiding a smile when he heard Aldaya's cusses. He pushed the door open and entered silently, padding up behind Aldaya. She sat at an oak table, scribbling in the dim light, no doubt getting a headache from all the squinting. 

Elrohir cleared his throat, but was not prepared for her startled reaction. Aldaya knocked over her ink bottle and quill-holder, soaking her papers and the desk, the dripping off one side to fall onto the carpet. She sprang to her feet, caught a foot on the table, stumbled and fell, pulling the chair down on top of her.

Elrohir struggled to keep a straight face.

Aldaya took a deep breath and counted to a hundred. Two hundred. Five hundred. "Yes?" she asked calmly after several moments, ink dripping from strands of her hair.

Elrohir found he couldn't breathe from trying not to laugh. "Would you like to join me for lunch?" he asked, fighting to keep a smile off his face.

"I'd be delighted," Aldaya answered darkly. 

"What are you translating?" Elrohir asked as he helped Aldaya to her feet.

"An old poem," Aldaya answered curtly. Elrohir looked over at her ruined papers.

"You were on the right track."

"According to my mother, there is no right track for me," Aldaya snapped, then stopped. "I apologize," she said stiffly. "That didn't come out right."

"Nothing ever does when you have ink in your hair," Elrohir pointed out, and this time he did smile.

Aldaya looked at herself, her papers, the desk, and the floor, and then at Elrohir, who was desperately trying not to laugh.

"A break sounds very good," she said calmly. 

*     *     *     *

Aldaya rapped the towel around her head and slipped on a light summer dress, racking her memory for the location of Elrohir's rooms, where he had invited her for supper. She thought it a bit odd, considering she had only met the man once or twice in her two-week stay. 

"Men," she grumbled under her breath as she toweled her hair off. "I don't understand them, and I never will."

"A shame," said a cheerful voice from behind. 

Aldaya whipped around, drawing a dagger from a concealed sheath. Silruin was leaning against her wall, arms folded, and a smirk on his handsome face.

"Silruin!" Aldaya shouted, hurtling her towel at him. He caught it, draped it about his shoulders, and grinned. "You indecent, bloody minded, two timing, backstabbing, double crossing, smart-offing, blackmailing pointy-eared freak!" she shrieked. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm all that?" Silruin asked innocently. "Wow. Momma was right about me."

"Your mother should have beat you as an elfling," Aldaya snarled, yanking her towel away from him. "What are you doing here? I could have you executed for this!"

Silruin looked at her curiously. "I didn't watch, you know," he said calmly. 

"That's not the point!"

"Isn't it?"

Aldaya scowled at him. "You stinking elves. Every one of you is a thrice bedamned philosopher."

"True," Silruin answered with a cocky smile, and then suddenly looked at her gravely. "But I did not see you whilst you were indecent, and had I not just arrived, I would not have looked. I am not a monster, Aldaya. I have come to warn you of a danger."

"A poet, too, I see. What's this warning?"

Something in the elf's steady gaze caught her attention and froze her. His pale gray eyes were intense, almost fearful as he spoke.

"All evidence of a dreadful secret was destroyed long ago," he said quietly. "And a prophecy was foretold of the day the secret would come out. That's all I can tell you. You must keep away from Elrohir."

Aldaya scowled. "Oh? And who are you to tell me who shall and shall not speak to me?"

"I come as a friend, Aldaya. Elrohir is caught up in something he does not understand. Please do not make this more complicated."

"Make what more complicated?"

A knock on the door prevented Silruin from replying. Aldaya looked over her shoulder, called, "Just a minute!" and turned back to face the elf. 

But Silruin was gone. 

*     *     *     *

Elrohir finished donning the fine clothes he would wear to supper with Aldaya. He tried to convince himself that he was doing this because he liked Aldaya, but elves cannot lie, not even to themselves, and Elrohir knew he was doing it primarily to rebel against his father. 

Father. Elrohir frowned as he moved about his room, setting up the table and arranging the food. Elrond was not the kind of person to keep secrets from his family. Why, then, would he not tell Elrohir this secret? What was so important about it?

"Even the elves from grace can they fall," a voice whispered into his ear.

A plate shattered on the floor as Elrohir swung around, his sword drawn and ready. But the room was empty. Puzzled, Elrohir extended his empathy, but detected no one nearer than the next room.

Elven hearing was extremely précised, but the words had been spoken almost directly into his ear.

Shaking off his unease, Elrohir sheathed his sword, and bent to pick up the broken pieces of the fallen plate. 

"One is too many, three is too few."

Elrohir spun about, drawing his dagger along with the sword this time. "Who's there?" he demanded loudly, unafraid. 

A whisper of a chuckle floated by him, and he spun again. "I am she who was the immortal no more," came the hoarse whisper. "I am she who haunts your dreams and dogs your footsteps. I am she who shall be your doom."

"I don't believe in dooms haunting people," the elf replied coldly. "Nor am I afraid of them."

Another dry chuckle. "Fool, then, you are," it whispered, still invisible.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" 

"Do not ask questions to answers you already know!" the voice screamed suddenly, and took on the tone of his mother, Celebrian.

"Mother?" Elrohir cried. "Mother!"

"Elrohir? Elrohir! Lasto beth nin—"

Elrohir went into a spasm in his father's arms, his back arching painfully. Elrond fought down his fear and touched Elrohir's mind, pulling him out of the vision. 

"Lasto beth nin, tolo dan na ngalad!"

Elrohir went limp, his head lolling against Elrond's shoulder. "Elrohir?" the elf-lord called softly. "Elrohir?" With a gentle hand, he brushed damp hair out of the younger elf's eyes and peered gravely into his face. 

Elrohir moaned softly, and flinched away from the touch. "Ada*?" he whispered breathlessly. 

"I'm here."

"What…was that?"

Elrond looked puzzled, watching Elrohir carefully with a healer's eye as Elrohir dragged himself to his knees, swaying slightly. "What was what?"

"You…did not hear it?"

"Hear what?"

Elrohir's eyes suddenly snapped onto Elrond, holding his gaze. "What secrets have you hidden, ada?" Elrohir asked, struggling to catch his breath.

"You should rest—"

"No!" Elrohir surprised both himself and his father at the sharpness of his tone. "No, there is something I must find."

Elrond's face darkened. "My child…"

"Do not belittle me!" Elrohir cried, springing to his feet, grabbing hold of the table to steady himself. "What secrets have you hidden, ada?" he repeated. "What darkness hides in our past, which no one is willing to speak of? What secrets have the elves kept so long, even from themselves?"

Elrond looked helplessly at his youngest son, befuddled and concerned. Elrohir's eyes burned with a feverish light, his face sweaty and ashen. "Elrohir," Elrond began again.

"_What secrets have you hidden?" Elrohir screamed, and flung himself at his father. Elrond rolled to one side, and Elrohir hit the floor hard, yelping as his elbow struck the wooden floor. Impossibly fast he swung around, a dagger tipped with poison in his hand._

Elrond was more than stunned. Elves rarely used poison, considering the fact that more often than not such weapons could be turned against their wielder, to devastating effects. He dodged a blow that would have stuck him dead, poison or no poison, dancing back out of reach.

"Elrohir!" he cried.

"What secrets have you hidden?" Elrohir shrieked, his arms trembling as he tried to lift the dagger again. Elrond knocked it from his hands and caught his son as Elrohir collapsed against him, lowering him gently to the floor. Elrohir was deathly pale and gasping desperately for breath. 

"My son," Elrond whispered, holding the trembling elf close to him. "My poor son." 

Elrohir leaned against his father's shoulder, eyes tightly shut, panting softly. Elrond rocked Elrohir gently, as he had when Elrohir and his brother Elladan had been elf-boys, small enough for both to fit on his lap. 

Elrond rested his cheek on Elrohir's head.

"Elbereth, what have I done?" Elrond said aloud.

Elrohir didn't hear him.  

?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*

*ada=father


	6. Chapter Six: The Scrap of Paper

Chapter Six

The Scrap of Paper

Aldaya moved easily through the halls, her memory aiding her in finding Elrohir's room. She stopped outside his door and frowned. Was that crying she heard?

She tapped lightly on the door, and waited for a long moment. Just as she was raising her hand to knock again, the door opened, and a beautiful elf-woman stood before her, so alike to Elrond that Aldaya knew she must be Elrond's daughter, the Lady Arwen. 

"My brother has become indisposed," the woman said instantly. "I'm afraid he cannot dine with you at this time."

Aldaya hid her shock well. "Of course," she answered smoothly. "Perhaps another time."

Arwen nodded and closed the door. Aldaya made her way back to room slowly, thinking about what Silruin had told her. 

Once she was at her rooms, she moved about briskly, changing into dark breeches and a shirt, tucking the hem into her pants. She twisted her hair into a bun and used two sharpened mental sticks to hold it in place. Then she slipped on soft leather shoes, stepped, opened her window, and climbed onto the sill.

I am stupid, Aldaya thought as she moved carefully, one foot at a time, careful not to look down, around windows, some of which were open. She could hear the waterfalls below, feel the spray on her face, but she kept going. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. It wasn't that she was afraid of heights, but the fact of how painful her death would be if she slipped that kept her eyes locked ahead. 

Finally she made it to the side that Elrohir's rooms faced. Aldaya paused and took several deep breaths to calm herself. Then she carefully slid one had down, and pushed the window inward.

She held her breath. No one came to see. Slowly she eased her foot into the room, then the other, and then slid all the way in. She turned around, but to her surprise she found that she was not in Elrohir's rooms at all.

She was in Elrond's room, and it was Elrond who was looking back calmly at her.

Aldaya froze, and thought she would die of mortification. She _wished she could die of mortification. To her surprise, though, when she managed the nerve to glance at the silent elf-lord, she saw that something bordering on amusement in his dark eyes. Aldaya looked away again._

"I have to admit," Elrond said finally, making her twitch. "I've never received guests in such a…unusual way. But times change. I suppose we'll be having tea on the roof before long. Or I'll be marrying my children underground."

Aldaya sincerely wished she could drop into the floor and disappear. "It's not what you think," she whispered. 

To her surprise, Elrond chuckled faintly. "If you're worried I think you're having a covert affair with my son, don't. I know quite well that you've an insatiable curiosity." Then he looked her directly in the eye and held her gaze for a long moment. "But curiosity can be a dangerous thing," he said, and something about his tone, the expression on his face and in his eyes bespoke of grave danger.

Suddenly dizzied, Aldaya felt as though she were walking blind into a dangerous, perhaps explosive situation. "What really happened to Elrohir?" she asked quietly.

"That is none of your affair," Elrond replied, expressionless. 

Aldaya hesitated. Indeed it was not her affair…but she felt as though she was missing something. That there was something she was overlooking that would tie everything together for her. 

Elrond stood and moved towards her. Aldaya was rooted to the spot, could not stop staring at the man who had changed from the kind, revered, respected friend to a stern and cold elf-lord. 

Elrond, in truth, felt sick at what he had to do, but knew it had to be done. "Elrohir is leaving for Lothlorien in the morning," he said, quietly but sharply. "I suggest you return to your rooms and rest, and regain your strength."

"What strange beings you are, you elves," Aldaya said softly as Elrond turned away; "so similar and so different. A wonder we were ever the same."

Elrond spun around, but Aldaya was gone, the curtain flapping in the breeze. Slowly, he sat back down onto his chair.

"Oh, my lord Gil-Galad," he murmured. "What burdens you have asked me to carry. My lord, I do not know if I have the strength to carry it any longer." His gaze drifted out the window to the stars, stars that seemed strangely dim. "How high a price must we pay for forgetfulness?"

*     *     *     *

Listlessly, Elrohir moved about his room, running his hands through his thick, dark hair, feeling ill and unhappy. He sighed sorrowfully and perched on the edge of his bed, looking around, but not seeing.

A gentle knock startled him out of his reverie. Elrohir didn't bother to answer, just continued staring into nothing. 

The knock came again.

Elrohir felt a familiar touch in the back of his mind—the mind-touch, the mental equivalent of a knock that was his brother's. _Go away, he sent back gloomily._

A sense of defiance and stubbornness was his only reply, followed by the click of tumblers as Elladan picked his lock and opened the door. Elladan stood up from his knees and came over to sit besides Elrohir, kicking the door closed on his way over.

Elrohir watched his brother lethargically; his normally bright gray eyes dim with sorrow and despair. Elladan put his hand on Elrohir's shoulder. "What is wrong, brother-of-mine?" Elladan asked gently. 

Elrohir stared off into the distance. "I wish I knew."

*     *     *     *

Aldaya squinted in the candle light, and managed to translate another word of Quenya before shoving her papers aside and standing to stretch her neck. Bored silly and weary of translating, she began randomly pulling books off of shelves and flipping absently through them, looking for a good read. She stopped when she pushed one book back into the shelf and frowned. She thought she had felt a knot on the smooth wood under the shelf. Aldaya bent down and pressed against the knot, and to her surprise she heard something click, and then felt a tiny opening pop open. Cautiously she stuck her finger in and felt a bit of paper. Using her pinky and ring finger she managed to pull it out.

It only had one thing written on it.

_A child by blood  not of Beren's._


	7. Chapter Seven: The Price of Forgetting

DISCLAIMER:  I forgot this on the last few chapters (sorry MR. TOLKIEN, not trying to steal your stuff!) so ok, only Silruin and Aldaya are mine. All else belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. ALL HAIL TOLKIEN! Sorry. J

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Nemis: good! It's so much more fun when you're wondering what the readers are suspecting as you write the next chapter!! J ALL: I know I've been painfully lax about writing on this story, but now that school is over and done with, I can do a chapter a day, maybe more, if I have nothing else planned. So keep checking, because I will be updating this one a lot. And once I get inspired, Frodo: Or My Precious, too. 

Chapter Seven

The Price of Forgetting

"You did _what?" Elrohir cried. "But I do not wish to go to Lorien!"_

Elrond did not respond, merely nodded, his face expressionless. For a moment he thought that Elrohir might loose control again and attack him; but the moment passed, and Elrohir sunk back onto his bed, staring listlessly at nothing. 

"My son," Elrond said gently, kneeling down and putting his hand on Elrohir's shoulder, "my son, this is not about Aldaya anymore, but about you. Something has happened to you, and for all my skill in healing I cannot discern what. And it is _killing you, Elrohir! You will surely die if you remain this way. Perhaps Galadriel…"_

"The only way we die is through a sword or despair," Elrohir said bitterly, pulling away. "What have I left to live for?"

"Is you father and your bother and your sister not enough?" Elrond asked. "And what of Celebrian, you mother? If I cross over the sea, to be with her, what shall I tell her? That you despaired, would allow no one to help you, and now are laying six feet under ground, cold and dead?"

Elrohir looked up at Elrond, no longer an elf-lord, but a father, and saw the anguish in Elrond's eyes, and didn't care. 

"Yes," he said quietly. "Tell her that."

*     *     *     *

Elladan was an elf-prince, one of great and noble linage, and wielder of many strange and mighty powers. But he was also a brother and a son, and was frightened beyond anything he had ever experienced before.

"I have fought trolls and orcs, goblins and monsters of the night," Elladan mourned as he ran through the hallways. "And yet, I cannot deny that the thought of my brother as…dead…brings a chill to my heart that no star or sun or song can warm. Oh, where can that girl _be?"_

Elladan rarely ran, except in emergencies. After speaking to Elrohir mind-to-mind, he knew this was an emergency. His brother was fast falling into despair, and elves cannot live in despair. They die, freeing their spirit from the horrors of this world, and go to Mandos' Halls, the Halls of the Dead, to await judgment on if they should be reincarnated. 

"No," Elladan whispered fiercely, his cloak trailing out behind him as he ran, flapping when Elladan dodged someone or ducked under something. "It shall not be!" Then he saw Aldaya riding a horse out of Rivendell, towards the south end of the valley. "Aldaya!" he cried. "Aldaya! _ALDAYA!"_

*     *     *     *

Aldaya reined in her horse, gently, for the horse's mouth was soft, and turned to regard, to her shock, Elladan, running up towards her at a dreadfully fast pace.

How did I know it was Elladan? she wondered, but had no time to contemplate it, for Elladan was upon her, and fear, the first time she had seen open fear on an elven face, twisted his fair features. 

"You must come quickly," he said urgently, his hand on her ankle. "My brother is dying, you must hurry!"

Aldaya felt her head reel. "What's this?" she demanded. "What do you mean, he is dying? Your father said he set out early this morning, to Lorien."

"He was to, but his condition became more serious."

"Condition?"

"Come with me, and hurry!"

Aldaya sprang off her horse and threw the reins to a startled groom before sprinting down the hall after Elladan. Elves moved to one side for the prince and the human, sensing the urgency of their quest. 

Aldaya was in good shape, but Elladan was an Elf, and did not tire. Before long she was gasping for air, trying to ignore the stitch in her side. When Elladan finally skidded to a stop, Aldaya could not speak for panting. The prince ushered her into a room, to the surprise of Elrond and Elrohir, already inside.

"What is the meaning of this?" Elrond demanded, striding forward. Elladan intercepted him and began speaking in elvish so rapidly that Aldaya was at a loss to understand him. Her eyes instead fell upon Elrohir, sitting motionless on his unmade bed, eyes glazed and staring at nothing.

Slowly she came forward, and the world around them seemed to fade into nothing. "Elrohir?" she asked gently, taking his hand. Elrohir turned his head and looked at her, and Aldaya felt her heart pierced with a spear, so keen were his eyes. Everything went dark except for Elrohir's face. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, tried to ignore it, but it was so loud, pounding so hard.

And then she was falling.

*     *     *     *

"Father!" 

The sharp cry broke into the argument between Elladan and Elrond, which was fast becoming heated. Elrond turned to see Aldaya collapse, see Elrohir fall to his knees next to her and gather her into his arms.

_Even the elves from grace can they fall._

Elrond froze for an instant, and he looked over at Elladan. Judging from the shocked look on the elf-prince's face, Elrond figured that he, too, had heard the ghostly whisper. 

"Father!" Elrohir cried again, and Elrond ran towards him. "She's not breathing!"

Elrond pulled Aldaya from Elrohir's arms and laid her limp form on the floor in front of him. Pulling out a small mirror, he held it in front of her lips, and saw no mist upon the glass, and his face grew grave with concern. Dispite his harsh words to her the night before, Elrond held great respect for the young and upcoming merchant, and had no wish to see her die. He felt for a pulse and found none.

Elrohir moaned and fell forwards onto Aldaya. "Aldaya!" he called, as if into some far away place. Then his eyes slipped closed and his body went very still. 


	8. Chapter Eight: Into the Spirit Realm

DISCLAIMER: only Aldaya and Silruin are mine. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this takes place a year before Elrond leaves to go across the Sea. 

Chapter Eight

Into the Spirit Realm

"What's happening?" Elladan demanded, frustrated. Elrond glanced at his son, pacing up and down the room, scowling at Elrohir and Aldaya, still lying where they had fallen on the floor. "Why can't you do anything?"

"They're bodies are frozen in time," Elrond answered patiently. "I cannot approach or help them until they are brought back into the time continuum."

Elladan ran his hands through his hair and sighed heavily, staring at his brother's still face. "I wish I knew what was happening," he said. "I cannot sense him anymore!"

"Of course not," Elrond replied. "By our standards, neither of them are actually here. They're somewhere else."

"But where?"

Elrond didn't answer.

*     *     *     *

"Are we dead?" Aldaya asked aloud, standing beside Elrohir.

"I'm not sure," he answered, peering into the foggy gloom. Squinting, he frowned, seeing a figure approaching. "Who is there?" he called.

"I am she who once was the elf-woman called Luthien, Tunuviel to her lover," the ghostly apparition answered quietly, coming forward into view, her dim figure distinctly elven; but her features were older, sharper, more distinct than a human's form—more so than the forms of elves Aldaya knew. 

"Why are we here?" Elrohir asked as Aldaya said, "Are we dead?"

The ghost smiled sadly. "Do you not understand the riddle lying before your eyes?" she asked. 

"'Fraid not," Aldaya said sarcastically, shivering in the cold. "Stop speaking in riddles, and tell us plainly why you are here!"

"Long has a secret been kept," Luthien answered. "Long has it been kept."

"What secret?"

"Return to your world, now," the ghost said softly. "And leave the dead in peace."

_"What secret?" Elrohir screamed._

Luthien stared hard at the elf-prince, her eyes like liquid. "Do not ask answers to questions you already know," she said at last.

"You were the voice I heard," Elrohir gasped. 

"That is correct. I have been waiting sometime for you to come here."

"So you can send us back?" Aldaya said dryly.   
 

"No. So I can come with you."

Aldaya and Elrohir cried out as darkness swarmed over them. Then they were falling—always falling, past stars, planets, moons, suns, creatures and places they had never seen and never would see. They saw a world destroyed, a world born, a child die, and a woman live. They saw beauty and pain and wonders beyond what their minds could bear. 

Then they were kneeling on the floor in Elrohir's room, Elladan and Elrond next to them, helping them to their feet. 

Luthien watched the spectacle impassively, her light gray eyes as insubstantial and transparent as her body. 

Elrond let go of Elrohir's arm and stared at his ancestor for a long moment. Silence fell, with the three elves and Aldaya watching the spirit before them. 

At last Luthien spoke. "You prayed for me to come," she said softly. "To relieve you of a burden you have carried for three thousand years."

Elrond's eyes shone with an inner light, but he did not speak.

"You know who I am?" Luthien asked Aldaya, who nodded.

"You are Lord Elrond's ancestor."

"I am more than that," said the woman. "I am yours, as well."

Elladan sucked in his breath sharply, but neither Elrond nor Elrohir seemed surprised. Aldaya's mouth fell open, but she could not find the words to speak. "You are mistaken," she managed at last. "I am a full blooded human! My line has been traced back hundreds of generations!"

"There are few at all who are purely human," Luthien said quietly. "Many have elven blood, though they do not know it. You are one."

"But why is it such a big secret?" she demanded.

"Because," Elrond said suddenly, "Luthien had only one child, or so the stories go, and his linage can be traced without a doubt." His eyes fell on her and pierced her soul, as elven eyes seemed to have a habit of doing. 

"What are you saying?" Aldaya asked, shivering, and not from the cold.

"I was not a virgin when I married Beren," the ghost said. "After I came back from Mandos' Hall, I was fully human, with all human fallibilities. Once when Beren was away, I had another child, a daughter, by an elf called Silruin."

Aldaya nearly fainted. Her head spun and Elrohir caught her arm. Strange warmth flooded her body at the touch, and she looked over in surprise at Elrohir, who seemed similarly startled. 

"I should have married him, but I did not. When my daughter was born, I wanted nothing to do with her. I gave her to Silruin to raise and never wanted to see her again. When Beren found out about Silruin, he was furious with me. He murdered Silruin, and would have killed my child as well had she not fled into the forest." The ghost closed her eyes, and it seemed to those who watched that she struggled with a terrible pain. "I helped Beren find Silruin."

"Would you have let your daughter die as well?" Elladan asked bitterly, horrified at such a notion.

"No," the ghost replied gently. "It was I who helped her escape."

"Your mother knew," Elrond went on, his voice low. "Melian knew what had been done."

"Yes," the ghost agreed. "She did. Others found out as well—the elves who found my daughter heard the story and were horrified. And so Melian created a poem, a poem to remind the elves unto the end of the ages what had been done. That I," the ghost continued bitterly, "I, heroine of the First Age, and the hero Beren, he who had slain the great wolf, she who had charmed Melkor to sleep, were murderers. That we fell from grace and lost our way. And it was all because I was a fool." She fell silent for a moment, and then softly began to chant.

_An ancient secret, known only to few_

_Once told, once shamed, one many rue_

_A child by blood not of Beren's_

_A story of loss finds you therein_

_But what was the story that saddened the elves?_

_Where the dwarves delve deep, many secrets there dwell_

_Once is too many, three is too few_

_Nine is the number between me and you_

_Five is the times I called to the stars_

_Twelve are the reasons I knew from afar_

_Ten are the centuries waited have I_

_Four words and a story, all I have to defy_

_For eternal horror, eternal shame_

_Once a story, now a game_

_There is a first time for everything, and a last time for all_

_For even the elves from grace can they fall._

"The translation is the story," Elrond explained. "The first stanza speaks of the child Luthien bore, which was not by Beren. Silruin and Luthien were nine years apart in age. Luthien did not wish to have any children, but Silruin wanted many, and so they parted ways, because of the argument."

"Five times I asked Elbereth to abort the pregnancy," Luthien continued. "I went to twelve elves who called themselves wise to ask what should be done. None of them had any answers."

"Why didn't you just abort the baby, then?" Elladan snarled, the anger in his voice clear.

"I am not a child-killer!" Luthien snapped in response. "I wanted Elbereth to stop the pregnancy naturally, so I would not be burdened with a child, but I would not murder it!"

"Ten thousand years she has waited," Elrond added. "Ten thousand years to warn the elves against such temptation."

"To tell this story, and warn such elves who would throw away all that is elven for a selfish act they cannot escape from. Such is the danger of loving a mortal."

"To love a mortal," Elrond said, "for an elf is the ultimate sacrifice. You sacrifice yourself, your soul. Everything about you that is different from a human is stripped from you, and you are left with the same weaknesses, the same foolishness, as humans. The same selfishness."

"Not all humans are terrible," Aldaya said darkly.

"No," Elrond agreed. "But they are tempted far easier than any other race in Middle-Earth."

"It was a first," Luthien went on. "The first time an elf had fallen so completely from grace. Even Feanor was not completely evil…just misguided."

"And to our woe, we discovered that even the elves from grace can we fall," Elrond finished softly. He turned to Aldaya and Elrohir. "So now you know why I told you to stay away from Aldaya; because you are kin, albeit distantly, the parts of you that are elven are attracted to each other. Silruin knew this, and so did I. Silruin was sent back by the Valar to protect you. That is why we tried to keep you two apart, for both your sakes." Then, so quietly Aldaya almost couldn't hear, he said, "I lost one child to a mortal. I had no wish to loose another."

"The ultimate sacrifice," Luthien repeated. "To love a mortal."

*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*

Dum dum DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. 

Ok, what did you guys think? Tell me in email/review! I love comments. 


	9. Chapter Nine: To Love A Mortal

DISCLAIMER: See all eight previous chapters. 

Chapter Nine

To Love a Mortal

"It can't be," Elrond whispered, running a hand along his chin. "It can't be."

"Aldaya and Elrohir don't know?" Glorfindel asked. Elrond silently shook his head and walked to his balcony, overlooking the western, and most beautiful, portion of Rivendell. 

"Not all is lost," Glorfindel said quietly. 

"Maybe not for us," the elf-lord answered just as quietly. "But it could be for Elrohir."

*     *     *     *

Aldaya huffed and puffed as she pushed herself up a short, steep climb to the top of a hill overlooking the valley of Imladris*, trying to drown her tumbling thoughts in exercise. Her hands still trembling slightly, she brushed damp strands of hair from her face and looked out over the spectacular view. How much more beautiful it would be if she were not trapped here!

Her mother had told her not to come back before three weeks had gone by; because that was the usual amount of time bargaining took with merchants. 

Trapped, Aldaya mouthed to herself, the word tasting sour in her mouth. "How I wish I could grow wings and fly away," she said with a sigh.

_Be careful what you wish for, something whispered into Aldaya's ear. __Because you just might get it._

Aldaya whipped her head away, searching the scrubs and evergreens for another person. "Luthien!" she shouted. "Show yourself!"

_Guard the paths of his heart, sister-of-my-soul._

Then the presence was gone, leaving her shivering at the top of the open hill, a wind blowing chill and ominous off of the Misty Mountains.

*     *      *     *

"Soul-bonded?" Elladan gasped. "Aldaya and Elrohir are soul-bonded?"

Elrond motioned for his son to take a seat, his gray eyes sad. "It is true."

"But—I don't understand. Why? How? And why are you so against their joining?"

"Why, I do not know. Some twist of fate, perhaps. How, is when they 'died' the parts of their souls that were elven melded together. When they came back they shared the same elven-soul. The same fea." Elrond leaned back against his chair and massaged the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "As to why I'm against their joining…Elrohir does not fully understand the sacrifice he is making. Should he choose to live with Aldaya, he will loose his immortality, the gate to Valinor will be closed for him, and he will not die until he has lost everything he cares about."

"You fear his heart will break when he watches her die," Elladan said in a voice both sad and accusing. 

"Yes," Elrond agreed. "I do. I fear it with Arwen, and now I fear it with him."

Elladan stood up and two quick steps took him to his father's side. Kneeling, he took Elrond's cold hands in. Elrond smiled sadly and fondly at Elladan, allowing his eyes to wander over Elladan's fair face, the features that were, or so people told him, so closely alike to his own. Elrohir had always been closest to Celebrian…had taken her leaving particularly hard. Elrond pulled one hand free and laid it briefly against Elrohir's cheek. 

"Can you truly keep them apart, then?" Elladan asked, looking up at him with those startling blue-gray eyes. "You can no longer protect us from the world and its harshness."

"No, I cannot. And perhaps that is what saddens me most."

The two remained still even as the sun slipped towards its western bed, and the light grew dim.

*     *     *     *

"I think I love her," Elrohir said to Glorfindel, rubbing his hands on his arms to warm himself. He paced nervously in the garden, his eyes darting to every shadow as though expecting something to jump out at him. 

"Think carefully," Glorfindel warned him, his golden hair hanging about his shoulders in wavy ripples, his blue eyes both thoughtful and sad. "Once you decide, you cannot go back. Do you really know what you are asking of yourself, of your father, of Aldaya? Do you truly love her, or is it the calling of your soul that pulls you?"

Elrohir turned away. "I am almost afraid to answer that."

*     *     *     *

"I think I love him," Aldaya said aloud, letting her gaze wander to the horizon. "I think I could love him until I die."

"Are you so sure?" a voice asked from behind. Aldaya turned to find Silruin regarding her, those gray eyes usually so bright with happiness now dark with sorrow. "How can you be so sure?"

Aldaya took a step forward, and then allowed Silruin to pull her into a hug against his shoulder. Closing her eyes tightly against the tears that threatened, she sniffled softly, allowing it to turn into a sob. "When did things become so complicated?" she asked mournfully. 

Silruin squeezed her tighter in response. "I'm so sorry, granddaughter," he said quietly. 

Aldaya pulled back a little. "That child you and Luthien had together—what did you name her?"

Silruin brushed her auburn locks away from her face, and looked down with a smile both sad and proud. "I named her Aldaya."

*     *     *     *

"Such is the price," said Elrond, more to himself than Elladan, as the stars began to come out.

*     *     *     *

"The price of love," Silruin told Aldaya quietly.

*     *     *     *

"To love a mortal," Glorfindel said simply, and Elrohir buried his head in his hands. 

*     *     *     *

"You will not stop them, then?" Elladan asked gently. 

"No. I will give my blessings, if they wish to be married."

"I cannot bear to see my brother heartbroken. Does she love him, do you think?" 

Elrond smiled sadly. "Of that I have no doubt."

*     *     *     *

"I love him," Aldaya said to Silruin.

*     *     *     *

"I love her," Elrohir said to the stars, his eyes glazed in thought.

*     *     *     *

Elrond closed his eyes. "Nai Tiruvantel ar varyuvantel I Valar tielyanna nu vilya, Aldaya, a nin mell ion*."

*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*

Imladis=elvish translation of Rivendell

May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky, Aldaya, and my dear son.


	10. Chapter Ten: Or, The Interlude

DISCLAIMER: Only Silruin and Aldaya are mine. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do believe I owe the readers an explanation for my terribly cryptic chapter eight. *Clears throat, embarrassed.* The story of Luthien and Beren…Retold! Yes I know it's not anywhere in the books because I've read everything, even the History of Middle-Earth, and I had to do some serious improvising, but the whole thing about it is its supposed to be this "huge" secret that wasn't recorded in history. Blame my muse, Elrond. He's a bothersome thing.

ELROND MUSE: I am NOT! You're the one who twists my suggestions to your own sadistical views.

AUTHOR: Shut up, or I'll send you to Bobo Land.

ELONRD: You don't scare me!

AUTHOR SENDS ELROND MUSE TO BOBO LAND.

ELROND: OK, I'M READY TO COME BACK NOW!

AUTHOR IGNORES ELROND MUSE: As I was saying, I owe you guys an explanation (ESPECIALLY those of you who have read the Silmarillion and/or the History of Middle-Earth and know why this is a stretch of the imagination) so below I recount Aldaya wishing to hear the story in "non-cryptic" mode. 

INTERLUDE: The Story of Luthien and Beren (Retold)

Aldaya leaned back against the rock, watching the orange, pink, gold and red sunset, stifling a yawn. "Silruin?" she said sleepily. 

Silruin dropped silently down from his perch in the tree above her, landing lightly by her side. "Yes?"

"If you're my father…"

"Many greats-grandfather," Silruin corrected. "My child married an elf, but her child married a human, and from then on down my descendants all married humans."

"Oh. But…why did you come back?"

"To protect my family," Silruin answered simply. "From anything and anyone. Is that not reason enough?"

Aldaya nodded thoughtfully, and closed her eyes. "I still don't understand everything, though. Can you tell me the story in non-cryptic style?"

Had she been watching, she would have seen Silruin's sad, pained smile as he settled down next to her. "I owe it to you," he said firmly, and began speaking in a nostalgic, quiet voice. 

"When your grandmother returned from Mandos' Hall she was…changed. I don't know why or how…perhaps it was the loosing of her elven-soul that caused it. Either way, we all saw it...a loss of joy, was the difference. She came to me one night, said she hated Beren, and wished she had never chosen to be mortal. This was before they were married…she said she was breaking off the engagement. I tried to comfort her…one thing led to another, and she became with child. She hated me, hated the child, and hated herself." Silruin paused and sighed. "She gave the child to me to raise, and I took her gladly, naming her Aldaya. Such a sweet child!" Silruin glanced over at her. "Much like yourself." Aldaya blushed. "When Beren found out what happened—I never learned who told him—he went into a rage. Luthien, in her fright, told him where to find me. 

"It was late at night, and Aldaya was sleeping in my arms. When I heard the sharp knock I eased her into bed and went to open it. Beren ran his sword through my chest." A shudder ran through the elf's arms. "I remember falling, hitting the ground, and looking up into his hate-filled eyes, wishing to make him understand what had happened. I tried to scream at Aldaya to flee but blood filled my mouth and darkness took me.

"The rest I learned from Elrond when I came back. Aldaya saw me fall, and Beren was slowed by Luthien, who was trying to make him let the child go. Aldaya fled into the forest, and found a few nearby elves, told her story to them, and had them take her to Melian, her grandmother. Melian swore the elves to secrecy, and created the poem as a warning to the Elves…to be handed down from generation to generation about the dangers of loving a mortal."

"But why didn't Melian want the elves to know what had happened?" Aldaya asked.

"The elves had already lost their way before," Silruin explained, "in the Three Kin-slayings. Luthien and Beren were heroine and hero to us, much as Earendil is to you humans. To find out that they were murderers…would be such a scandal that the elves might once again question the wisdom of the Valar and Maiar, to dreadful consequences."

"A safety precaution," Aldaya said succinctly.

"Exactly. Luthien, when she died, was ordered by the Valar to speak to one of her descendents, to explain what had happened, as penance for what she had done. She choose you."

"But does that mean I'm peredhil? That I get the choice of the life of an elf or a human?"

Silruin shook his head. "No. My daughter received that choice, and she chose to be of the Elven-kindred. That choice is very, very rare, except in certain circumstances."

"It's so strange," Aldaya said after a moment, thinking out loud. "All my life I've wished that I were an elf, or at least half-elf, or maybe descended from the Numenorians. That's why I got so interested in history and languages…I wanted to know if my line really was pure human. And now I find that I'm actually descended from a Maiar…Melian, wife of Thingol."

Silruin smoothed her hair with his hand. "Some wishes do come true," he said.

Aldaya nodded, smiling slightly. "Indeed they do." She fell silent for a while, watching the twilight stars come out. "You know, it's strange. Sometimes I'll catch a glimpse of an elf out of the corner of my eye, and I'll think he or she is someone from my caravan. Then I turn, and see he or she is no human at all." She closed her eyes again. "Elves and humans…so similar in many ways, yet so completely different in others…was it always this way, grandfather?"

Nothing she could have said, nothing anyone could have said, struck him more profoundly than that single word: grandfather. How he had mourned never meeting his grandchildren! And how strange it was for an elf not to live to see his or her grandchildren…yet here was one of them, a human, yes, but so similar to his dear, sweet Aldaya. His daughter, Aldaya…his daughter, and he did not even know if she was alive or dead. But here sat Aldaya, the same name as his daughter, and indeed her personality was so close to his daughter's...and her smile as she looked at him eased the ache that had plagued his heart for so many long years. The pain and the guilt of not being able to protect Aldaya still haunted him, but perhaps it was less keen now, seeing a soul so similar to that of his daughter burn brightly in this young human's eyes.

"No," Silruin said, a bit hoarsely, realizing that Aldaya was still waiting for an answer. "No, indeed, granddaughter…let me tell you of long ago, when the world was young, and elves and humans were not so different."  
  


And so the two of them sat long underneath the darkening sky, Silruin telling many tales that eve of the elves and men and dwarves in ancient days, unknowing the shadowy figure overlooking them, hiding out of sight in the brush.

"I'm sorry, Silruin," Luthien said quietly. "I did love you, in a way." 

Then the spirit was gone, back to Mandos' Hall, leaving the elf and woman to their tales.  

*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*

Does that answer everyone's questions? If I missed something, please email me at LadyoftheRings35@hotmail.com, and I will do my best to answer it…it's all Elrond's fault. He's constantly confusing me. 

ELROND: I am NOT, will you stop that? And didn't you steal me from someone else? Someone who treated me nicer?

AUTHOR: I did not STEAL you, you have been bothering me for sometime now, so I captured you. Always keeping me up until ungodly hours of the morning…

ELROND: You have only yourself to blame for that. I can't help it if your day is all turned away.

AUTHOR: Elrond, go get a haircut and stop bothering me.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Heart to Heart

DISCLAIMER: THEY'RE ALL MINE! MWHAHAHAHA! Ok, I WISH they were all mine. Truthfully, I only own Aldaya and Silruin. All the rest is Tolkien's. ALL HAIL TOLKIEN! BOW TO THE CREATOR OF MIDDLE-EARTH!

Ahem…if you want to see me at my craziest, read "Frodo: Or my precious." I think this means I will be updating that soon because I'm starting to get another of my weird inspirational spells…: )

Chapter Ten

Heart to Heart

Aldaya ran lightly over the darkening trails, keeping Silruin in line of sight, trusting him to lead her true. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest, and she shook droplets of sweat out of her eyes. Silruin paused long enough to take her hand, and then they were off again, running through the night.

Aldaya was stumbling with weariness by the time Silruin slowed, clenching his hand to keep her balance. "What—are—we—chasing?" she gasped.

Silruin scanned the skies, stepped out dangerously far along a cliff. "A wounded eagle."

"How do you know its hurt?" she asked, panting, her hands braced on her knees.

"It told me," he answered succinctly. 

Aldaya might have made a slightly sardonic remark at that until she remembered the stories that said elves were possible telepathic, and that they tended to have strange abilities when it came to animals.

She stood straighter as a pained, shrill call sounded in the night. Silruin was off without a backwards glance, dodging through the trees. Aldaya shook her head and set off after him, unable to see but trusting that her ears would take her in the right direction.

She stumbled out into a clearing where Silruin was kneeling alongside an unusual eagle. Aldaya positively gaped at the huge bird, easily large enough to snap her in half with that big beak of its. She was edging away when Silruin saw her. "Come closer!" he bade her.

"It will eat me," she answered, still backing away and eyeing the thing nervously.

"Human doesn't taste good," a croaking voice explained, and Aldaya yelped as she realized that it was the eagle who was talking. "I won't hurt you."

Aldaya eased nearer, circling until she was next to Silruin, eyeing that beak with some trepidation. 

"Hfruift* was shot by orcs through the wing," Silruin said, capturing her attention. "We need to get the arrow out and treat it. Here, I need your help."

Aldaya moved closer to Silruin, and peered at the wound under the starlight. It was then she noticed how distressed the large eagle—Hfruift?—was. Hfruift panted heavily, his head drooping slightly, and the injured wing was tender and sore. 

"I took out an arrow from a raven's wing, once," Aldaya said suddenly. "This seems to be the same type of arrow. If you hold the wing, I think I can get it out."

Silruin looked at her, surprised, and then respect filtered across his features. Aldaya did a double take at him. "What?" he asked. 

"You looked familiar for a moment…" Aldaya shook her head. "Never mind. Here, hold the wing there while I pull…hold on, Hruftuf, we'll get it out."

"Hfruift," the eagle corrected, gnashing his beat. 

"Right, Hruftuf…on three I'll pull. One…" She yanked the arrow out of the wing. The creature gave a pained cry, one that made Aldaya flinch in sympathy. She went to Hfruift's head and stroked his head gently, wiping the blood off her hands onto the grass. Silruin moved forward and dressed the wound as Aldaya, no longer afraid, began talking to Hfruift. 

"There," Silruin said at last. "If you let that wing rest for another day or so, you should be able to fly."

The eagle turned its huge head; Aldaya flinched, but didn't move, trusting the eagle to miss her. "I thank you, Silruin, brother-of-my-heart," said the bird. "And you, Aldaya." Aldaya looked up. "Here is something for you to remember me by, young human, and a token of peace between my kin and yours." The bird turned its head to its uninjured wing, and pulled out a primary feather. "Here. Take it." She gingerly pulled it from between his beak; it turned silver and hard in her hands, and she accidentally cut herself with it.

"Thank you," Aldaya whispered. "I will treasure it always."

"Shall I send some elves to guard you, my friend?" Silruin asked, moving closer Aldaya, and helping her stand.

"That will not be necessary, Silruin. I will be safe here, until I can fly."

Silruin laid a hand on the bird's shoulder. "Farewell my friend."

 Aldaya followed Silruin out of the clearing, waving goodbye to Hfruift as she went, still admiring the beautiful feather. 

*     *     *     *

Elrohir balked like a stubborn colt when Glorfindel led him to where the elf-lord knew Aldaya and Silruin would be coming in. Indeed, had Elrohir been protesting less, he would have noticed that Aldaya, too, was trying to escape.

But Silruin and Glorfindel were just as stubborn, and managed to get them both in a garden and disappear, obviously guarding the exits a discreet distance away.

Aldaya swallowed her curses in a profound gulp, and put the feather in her pack, trying to seem nonchalant. She dropped her comb, and both she and Elrohir bent to pick it up, and hit heads.

"Ouch!" they exclaimed, pretty much in unison. Both backed off, embarrassed.

Elrohir dipped and picked up the comb offering it to her without meeting her eyes. She took it and shoved it into her pack.

"Thanks," she said, a little sharper than she'd meant.

"Don't mention it," he replied distantly, a little more primly than he'd meant. 

Both stood in uncomfortable silence for a long time.

"Elrohir?" Elrohir turned to look into Aldaya's eyes, her beautiful chocolate brown eyes, and she smiled at him, albeit nervously. "What a beautiful night."

That broke the tension. Elrohir visibly relaxed, and offered his arm to her. "Indeed it is," he agreed, and began leading her through the gardens, showing her the statues and carvings, the sculptures and decorations that had been acquired over Rivendell's long history. 

"Aldaya," Elrohir said suddenly after a short pause, "I need to tell you something."

Suddenly extremely nervous, Aldaya pulled back. "Oh, look at the time, it's so late!" she stammered. "I must be getting to bed—mother's rule, you know, never stay up past midnight, not good for you complexion, makes you wheezy in the morning—"

"Aldaya," Elrohir said, catching her hand. "Aldaya, wait, I have to tell you something."

"Oh, dear, is it one o'clock already? My, my," she chuckled faintly, her voice a bit too high. "I must be getting to bed. Good night, Lord Elrohir."

She pulled away and started walking down the paved path to Elrond's house.

"Aldaya," Elrohir called after her, and she froze at his tone. "I…I love you."

Aldaya went very still, neither moving nor turning. Elrohir took a step forward, uncertain. "I think I've loved you since the day I met you—since the day you saved my life, I think I was just denying it—but—Aldaya—"

He was right behind her now, and he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Do you love me back, is all I want to know?" he said softly in her ear. 

Aldaya shivered and leaned back, turning her head sideways and up to catch his mouth on hers. "Yes," she breathed. "Yes, I love you."

Elrohir pulled her tighter into his arms, and kissed her again. "I was hoping you'd say that," he said hoarsely. 

*     *     *     *

Aldaya slept peacefully, nestled against him in Elrohir's room, her head on his shoulder. Elrohir rested with one around her shoulders, his other arm supporting his neck as he watched the stars slowly set and the sky grow warmer in color. His unblinking eyes watched the sun steadily as it rose, as its rays fell across Aldaya's face, making her flinch and bury her head against him, away from the morning light. Elrohir dropped a kiss on her temple, and she stirred. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he whispered. 

Aldaya opened one eye, yawned, and groaned. "This isn't morning," she mumbled, burying her face in her pillow. "This is dawn, and is to be left to the elves and the birds."

Elrohir laughed out loud, and she lifted her head to smile at him, her long hair cascading down her back. She grinned at him playfully, suddenly wide awake. "Unless you can convince me to stay awake a little longer…"

The door suddenly swung open and Aldaya barely had time to pull the blankets up over her bosom when Elladan backed in, holding a tray of food.

"Rise and shine brother de—" he turned around and stopped, seeing his brother in bed with Aldaya. Elves are usually quite good at hiding their emotions when needed, but Elladan had been spending quite a lot of time with the humans, and, like a human, his jaw dropped open. He set down the food on the table before he dropped it, his face expressionless. "Forgive me, my lady," he said curtly, and left, not quite slamming the door. 

"Oh dear," Elrohir said, falling out of bed and pulling on a pair of hose, and tugging his tunic on over it. "I'd best go after him. If he tells father what happened while he's in this state, there's no telling what might happen." He noticed Aldaya's concerned face, and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, lend-ind*, he'll be fine, once I talk to him. He's just used to me being the placid one."

Aldaya raised her eyebrows, her smile knowing. "I'd have never have guessed it," she teased, and Elrohir blushed a bit before catching her face and kissing her lightly.

"I'll be back soon, melethril*," he promised, grabbing a piece of toast. "Mmm, good toast, help yourself!" he added over his shoulder, closing the door behind him. Aldaya chuckled, pulled the covers up over her head, rolled over, and went back to sleep. 

*     *     *     *

"Elladan! Elladan, wait! Wait up!"

Elladan stopped and spun around, his face a mask of anger. "What?" he snapped. 

"I wanted to talk to you—"

"Oh, you did, did you? You wanted to talk to me. Why, how nice of you. You didn't think to talk to me before you bedded that—that—_female?"_

Elrohir stopped, puzzled and hurt. "Why are you so angry?" he asked. "I thought you liked Aldaya."

"I do! I did! But not as your _wife! Do you know how much it will hurt father to see you die a mortal, too? Like our sister? Have you so fast forgotten Arwen and the pain she caused Father?"`_

Elrohir was beginning to get angry in turn. "Of course not!" he snapped. "But I cannot rule my life on what other people say and think about me! I have to make my own choices."

"Your own choices?" Elladan cried. "Your own selfish choices, choices that will tear the family apart?"

Elrohir tightened his jaw. "My life is not run by you, or by father, or by anyone except myself," he said coldly. "I make my own choices now, now that I am no longer a child. 

"You're still a child," Elladan said, just as coldly. "You just don't realize it. And what will father say when we tell him?"

"What will I say when you tell me what?" Elrond asked, coming up. "What are you two arguing about? I could hear you all the way down the hall in my study."

"Elrohir slept with Aldaya last night," Elladan said quickly, shooting his brother a triumphant look. Elrohir was just as quick to retort.

"It's not a fling, Father, I love her."

Elrond stood very still for a long, long time, gazing at his sons. His face was completely expressionless, his dark eyes unreadable. "So be it," he said at last, and turned away.

"Father!" Elrohir caught Elrond's shoulder, spinning him around. "Why do you hate me?" he cried. 

"I don't hate you," Elrond answered, gently and without anger, putting his hands on Elrohir's shoulders, his stone-hard expression softening as he viewed the angst in his youngest son's eyes. "But I will miss you."

Elrohir buried his face in his father's shoulder, tears sliding down his cheeks. Elrond motioned a suddenly uncomfortable Elladan into the hug. 

"I'm sorry, father," Elrohir said, his voice muffled.

"Don't be," Elrond answered simply. "Don't be."

*     *     *     *

It was later than day that Aldaya, bored when Elrohir didn't come back, got up, ate breakfast, and went for a ride.

Feeling daring, she rode out of Rivendell, nodding to the scouts on the edge as she went, unknowing that Elrohir had done something similar only a half and hour before. 

She felt for the feather Hfruift had given her, and shook her head. What a strange life she lived these days!

Suddenly, her horse balked and whinnied in fear. Before Aldaya could shake off her surprise, the horse reared and bucked, sending her flying. She hit the ground rolling, and came up with only her pack, her picnic still on the horse. Wincing as she heard the frightened animal pound off, she sniffed the air, wondering what had caused the creature such fright.

Which was when she smelt the orcs. 

*?*?*?*?*?*?

*Her-fru-ift 

*sweet-heart

*female lover


	12. Chapter Twelve: My Gift To You

DISCLAIMER: Okay, I give up! They're all Tolkien's creation, except for Aldaya and Silruin.

Chapter Eleven

My Gift to You

Aldaya, the magical feather still tucked in her bag, raced for the sounds of vicious fighting. At the last minute she realized that she had left her sword at Rivendell. Cursing this bad luck, she drew out her bow and peered between the leaves of a tall boysenberry bush, and her eyes widened in horror.

Elrohir was fighting brilliantly, but the ten orcs had him surrounded, and from the fey look in his eyes he knew he could not win, but was going to take down as many of the enemy as possible before one of the orcs got a lucky strike.

Aldaya would not settle for that.

Screaming an elven war-cry—how did I know that? she wondered—she launched an arrow at Elrohir's closest attacker, taking it through the throat. Her next arrow missed her target, but hit another orc in the hip. By now the orcs were turning on her, five of them busy with Elrohir, three of them charging her. 

Bad odds, Aldaya thought, and let fly another arrow before the remaining two orcs got too close to fire.

On an act of pure instinct, she pulled out the feather and ducked under the orc's wild swing, coming up and slashing its throat with the sharp edge. Using the dying orc's body like a shield, she pushed it into the remaining orc, then sprang on both bodies, snarling viciously as she plunged the silver feather into the orc's throat. 

Wiping off the blood on her feather on the grass, she turned to see Elrohir finish the last of the orcs. Her eyes brightened and she ran for Elrohir. His smile took in both ears as he opened his arms to catch her.

Just as a hidden orc-archer shot Aldaya through the back at point-blank range.

She arched her back in pain with a strangled cry, and fell to her knees, the bloody tip of the arrow protruding from the left side of her chest. Elrohir let out a cry of his own, and lunged for her, cushioning her fall. 

An elven-arrow whizzed over his head to take the orc in the eye, just as Elladan and a group of archers from Rivendell pounded into the clearing. 

"Get Father!" Elrohir shouted to his brother, cradling Aldaya like a small child in his arms, fighting to hold back his tears. Her face was white with pain, and a thin trickle of blood ran from her mouth and nose. 

Elladan was more of a healer than his brother, though, and recognized the wounds as mortal. He slowed his horse, dismounted and softly padded up to Elrohir. 

"What are you doing?" Elrohir cried. "Aldaya needs our father's skill in healing!"

The gentle compassion in Elladan's eyes as the older elf smoothed back Aldaya's hair and looked into her fast-glazing eyes was all Elrohir needed as a reply.

"No," Elrohir whispered, pulling Aldaya closer and away from Elladan's touch. "Aldaya? Aldaya, lend-ind*? Melda*? Can you hear me?" His voice broke in sob as she stared up at him, barely breathing as blood filled her lungs. Her eyes were full of pain, but there was fierceness in them that would not let Elrohir despair.

_I love you, he heard her whisper gently in his mind. __I will always…love…_

She exhaled one final time, her eyes going blank and her head lolling limply on his shoulder.

"No," Elrohir said again. Then, anguish in his voice, he screamed, "_NO!"_

Elladan tried to gently pull Aldaya's body from Elrohir, but Elrohir pulled back and buried his head against Aldaya's hair, sobbing and rocking, moaning quietly. The elves had encircled the group and were respectfully silent, watching as Elladan tried to comfort his brother. Elrohir sat, crying like a very small child, Aldaya's blood on his hands, her body in his arms. Tears streamed down his face, and he could not be comforted.

_Father? Elladan called at last. __You're needed here, quickly._

Suddenly Elrohir collapsed against Aldaya, and the rapport between him and his brother and his father was suddenly snapped.

_Elrohir? Elrond and Elladan cried in unison, but their only response was darkness.___

*     *     *     *

"Elrohir?" Aldaya asked in disbelief. "Is that you?"

Elrohir ran towards her, through the misty fog, and caught her tightly in his arms. "I thought I lost you," he whispered, and proceeded to kiss her.

"You have walked this path once before, Mortal and Elf," came a cool, commanding voice from behind. Elrohir and Aldaya separated, and turned to see a ghostly elf standing before them, his eyes jet black. "You must come before Mandos now, where your fate will be decided."

Fearful, the two of them holding tight to one another, they followed the elf—who, too their dismay, floated rather than walked—to a large cathedral that appeared suddenly and without warning. A mournful bell tolled in the tower high above, and Aldaya felt suddenly cold as she stepped through the great iron doors. 

It was a long walk to Mandos' throne, past the spirits of the dead elves not yet reincarnated, and the spirits of those who did not wish, or were not being allowed to be reborn. Elrohir looked, but did not see Feanor, and to his sadness he realized that the great elf had probably refused the summons to Mandos' Hall, and choose to wander as an invisible spirit in Middle-Earth, trapped forever. 

He stopped when Aldaya suddenly froze by his side, staring up at the foreboding and unyielding face of Mandos, the keeper of the dead. She felt colder and leaned against Elrohir for warmth. 

Mandos looked at them each in turn, and both felt their minds pierced from the Vala's gaze. 

At last the Vala spoke. "You have traveled far together. You are soul-bonded, and in what you among the place Arda* call love. You, Aldaya, died quickly…and you, Elrohir, followed her of your own free will." It was not a question. "Yet now you will part. Aldaya shall pass beyond the confines of this world, and you, Elrohir, shall remain, to be judged, and, if we judge it so, reborn."

In a quiet voice that nevertheless carried throughout the huge hall, Elrohir spoke one word: "No."

Mandos cocked his head and frowned. "No?"

"No," Elrohir repeated firmly. "If Aldaya is fated to pass beyond the confines of the world, then I too shall go with her."

"You cannot," Mandos said sternly. "You are elven. Your spirit is bound to Arda until it is destroyed."

"And so is she!" came a ringing voice that Elrohir had so longed to hear. To his amazement he saw his father striding up, his face a thundercloud of anger. "Her soul is just as elven as my son's!"

"Her soul is half-elven," Mandos said coolly. "It is not enough."

"It was enough for me."

"Yours was a special case," Mandos retorted. "I will not waste time arguing with you! You, too, Elrond, have now chosen the road of the dead. You cannot return."

"I know," Elrond said steadily. "But Elrohir is right. If you separate them, their spirits will both be destroyed…torn apart by the immeasurable distance."

"Long have I waited here, neither judged nor freed!" came another familiar voice. "Long have I wished to free myself from the guilt I've held over the millennia!" 

Luthien strode quickly forward, and placed herself next to Aldaya as Elrond stood with Elrohir. She turned and looked Aldaya, pale, frightened Aldaya in the eyes, and said for her and Mandos' ears alone, "My gift to you, my daughter." Then Luthien stepped forward. 

Aldaya gasped as her half-elven soul merged with Luthien's full elven soul. Her vision dimmed for a moment, and she distantly heard Mandos say, "It is done. She is an elf now, full blooded Nolder, and immortal as Arda. However, you still must remain here."

Elrohir caught Aldaya as she staggered, supporting her. Aldaya shook off her daze, and stood suddenly straighter. To Elrohir's eyes, she seemed suddenly to blossom. Her ears became slightly pointed and her hair lengthened. She was now a full blooded elf, in soul and body.

"Were not Luthien and Beren allowed to return?" Elrond asked Mandos sternly. "Is not this a special case, too?"

Mandos looked long on Aldaya, and sighed. "Indeed they were. And indeed this is," he said at long last. "You may return to your own world, now, to live as long as it is decreed." 

Mandos clapped his hand twice, and suddenly Aldaya, Elladan, and Elrond were standing near to a much shaken and very shocked kneeling Elladan.

"Ah," said Elladan. "What just happened?" Then his eyes fell on Aldaya, and his gray orbs widened. "And is she a—?"

Aldaya and Elrohir just smiled. 

?*?*?*?*?*?*?*

*The World=Arda

*sweetheart

*beloved


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Aldaya

DISCLAIMER: See all previous twenty billion chapters.

Chapter Twelve

Aldaya

"So I held half of the first Aldaya's spirit all along?" Aldaya asked incredulously, settled reassuringly between Silruin and Elrohir in Elrond's study, Elladan and Elrond across from them.

"So it would seem," Elrond agreed.

"An elven soul born into a human body," Elladan muttered. "Who would have guessed?"

"But only half of the soul was in Aldaya," Silruin interrupted. "The other half was in Elrohir."

"What?" Elrohir and Aldaya said simultaneously. 

"When my daughter died—and we must assume she did—her soul was split in half. Half was born into Aldaya, half was born into Elrohir. When they met and journeyed to the Spirit Realm the first time, the soul merged into one and they were soul-bonded."

"But I thought I only had half an elven soul, and was therefore human."

"This is giving me a headache," Elladan muttered.

"You did, but theory states that since you were born human, you are human. Perhaps elven souls can be in human bodies, but that does not necessarily mean that it turns that human body into an elven one. My son, you were born elven, with another half of a soul from your twin brother, making you quite elven."

"Elbereth, this makes my head hurt!" Silruin said with a shake of his head. 

"And you needed another half of a soul," Elrond added to Aldaya, "which is why Luthien sacrificed her own, and melded your souls together."

"Wait a minute," Elladan interrupted. "Where's the other half of my soul, then?"

"Good question," Elrond admitted. "It is possible that you only need half an elven soul to be elven, as long as you come from parents who are elves." 

"Well," Elrohir said, resting his head on Aldaya's shoulder. "Whatever it was, whoever our souls are, I'm glad it's over."

"Me too," Aldaya agreed, leaning against Elrohir in turn. "But if I'm an elf, does that mean I'm going to live for a long time?"

Elrond smiled at her. "A very long time," he assured her.

"But how old am I, then?"

Elladan groaned again, softly.

"Your age equivalent as an elf," Elrond replied, giving his son a look. "You're near to, give or plus a few hundred years, three millennia, right around Elrohir's age." He paused. "Then again, it is possible that your age is the same as that of an elf that has just reached bodily maturity, since you have just finished adolescence." 

Now it was Aldaya's turn to groan. "How am I _ever going to explain this to my parents?" She mimicked her mother's voice, " 'Oh __no! What do you mean you're an elf? Why aren't I an elf? Elves are just so…rude. Rude and elfy. I just can't __stand how they never have bad hair days! __Can't you change back? Oh and how did the bargaining go, darling?'"_

"We could elope," Elrohir offered. "Hide out in Lorien for a few decades."

"You have no idea how tempting that is," Aldaya said with a straight face, and then all five of them burst into laughter. 

*     *     *     *

Aldaya found Silruin outside in the gardens that evening, singing softly to himself as he paced silently back and forth. He stopped when he saw her, and smiled. His eyes took in her somber face and still form, and came quickly closer. "What's wrong?"

"Are you upset that I hold half of your daughter's soul?" she asked. "Are you upset that she will never be reincarnated, that you will never be able to see her?"

Silruin took her face in his hands and studied her face thoughtfully for a moment. "Child," he answered gently, "you _are Aldaya reborn. With the half of your soul merged with Elrohir, everything that was Aldaya—even your name—is you. And the better parts of Luthien as well."_

He stroked her cheek with his thumb for a moment, then released her. She stepped back and wiped her eyes, sniffling softly. "Does that make you my…"

"Father?" he finished. He gave a very slight nod, and a tiny smile. "Indeed it does, my daughter."

Aldaya gazed long upon his face. "I remember you," she said slowly. "I remember you when I was very little. You were so tall…you used to hold me and tell me stories by firelight. We lived alone, in the woods. I remember now…"

Silruin's smile widened and a single tear slipped down his cheek. "Come, my daughter," he said hoarsely, putting an arm around her shoulder as she leaned against him. "We have much to catch up on. Do you remember that song I used to sing to you?"

"What hope is here, and what hope is there, elves are dancing, stars in the air?" Aldaya recited quietly, and Silruin squeezed her shoulders in response. 

Elrond watched the father and daughter disappear towards another of the gardens, and turned to see Glorfindel watching him from further in the room. "Well," Glorfindel said calmly, "that was interesting."

"You have a gift for understatement, my friend," Elrond retorted. "Argh! Is it never calm around here? With human girls* jumping in and out of this dimension, elves doing daring rescues*, and souls being split up and remolded like putty, it's a wonder we get any rest around here."

"We don't," Glorfindel reminded him. 

"True enough," Elrond admitted, turning back to the balcony and the stars. "True enough, meldir.*"

"When are they to be married?" Glorfindel asked.

"In the spring," Elrond answered without turning, massaging the bridge of his nose with two fingers, and then sighing. "Glorfindel, I find I weary of sad endings to stories. I am glad that one has turned out happy."

"Even with the loss of Luthien?"

"Yes, because she is not really lost. In the end, her goodness won through, and she gave her soul to her granddaughter to save Aldaya and Elrohir. Had she not, Aldaya would have been ruled dead and sent beyond the confines of this world. Elrohir would have despaired and taken his own life to follow her. It was Luthien's gift to her granddaughter—a gift she could never give it to her own estranged daughter. Silruin's daughter is not lost, either. Both Luthien and the original Aldaya are inside of Aldaya, who is bonded to Elrohir." Now Elrond did turn back. "I have watched Silruin blame himself for his daughter's struggles for so long that to see him now, truly happy, how can I be anything but joyful? My son is marrying a wonderful woman; my other son is fast turning into a healer…"

"And your daughter?" Glorfindel asked gently, coming to stand beside Elrond. 

"My daughter followed her heart," Elrond said quietly. "And because she is happy, I am happy for her. No ending is perfect, Glorfindel."

"No," Glorfindel agreed. "No ending is ever truly perfect."

The two elves looked out over Rivendell, listening to the sound of falling water. Somewhere in the distance, Silruin began to sing gently, his melodic voice carried on the cool updrafts coming from the waterfalls.  

"But this is as close as it gets," the golden-haired elf-lord finished, and Elrond smiled at him. 

*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?

*See my story, "The Council of Elrond (and a REALLY bad day)

*See my other story, "Daughter of the Elves."

*male friend

Oh. My. Elbereth. I had NO idea the story was going to turn out that way. I was sure I was going to turn Aldaya into an eagle (remember the magic feather?) and keep the two of them apart…but one story (Daughter of the Elves) is enough for me of tragic endings. Besides, TMOS (The Mouth of Sauron) would have been very unhappy if I killed off one of her favorite characters.

Ok, thank yous. First off, thanks to TMOS for making me write this story. I had a dwarven hell of a lot of fun on it. =) Once TMOS reposts her "Things they'll never say…" go read it. It's funny. And go read everything of ElfWarrior's. Thanks to ElfWarrior for being encouraging and always reading my stuff. Thanks to Foxfire for his really nice review. Thanks to Nemis for being the very first person to review my very first story (Daughter of the Elves) because I know a lot of people wouldn't have reviewed had they not seen that review by her. =) ELROND RULES! *grin* Go read her stuff. Especially the Elrond and Celebrian story. It's on my favorites list for a reason! =) 

Thanks to all my reviewers for their support, comments, suggestions, and encouragement. My reviewers have been great. To name them all, **Zreen****, ****Athenespearl****, Elrond the Hafelven, queenie, Tricia, Lady Harlequin, Sailor Book/Water Mistress, Xx.Elven*Jedi.xX, Unicorn Lady, Furius, jilian bade, AngelsBlade, Womba Warrior, Lady Yunalesca, Elrondfan34 and**** Aerlinnel. **

Now my only problem is I have to figure out what to write next! Maybe a sequel, you think? Aldaya's daughter? Or perhaps more Ellorme? Or maybe something about Carla and Alexia? Or something entirely new? The sky is the limit!

So thanks again everyone who reviewed my stuff, or even read and didn't review, or read it and thought about reviewing. : )

Oh, I'm going to miss this story. I had so much fun writing it! I was stuck for so long and then, BOOM, inspiration hit me and I haven't stopped writing since! But this part of the story is over now…except now I get to mess with Aldaya's daughter! Or is it son? Hmm, must think on that. Anyway, the next time you meet them, Aldaya will be in Valinor with Elrohir. Ooo…gosh, I just got an idea for a good subplot. I'd better go write it down. Farewell, namarie, namar, and all that cool stuff to you, my readers, for now! I am off to continue the slightly tragic but still turns out okay Aldaya-Elrohir romance! **capers off happily, pulling a protesting Elrond Muse after her.** 

Nai Tiruvantel ar varyuvantel I Valar tielyanna nu vilya.

(May the Valar guide you on you path under the sky.)


End file.
